Harry Potter and Dumbledore's Feint
by CassieVerte
Summary: Year 6 preHBP, PG13, HHr. Allies found, enemies created, youth disillusioned, hormones indulged, innocence sacrificed, and battles fought. Harry discovers that while he is training for a war, Dumbledore has already begun the fight. In the beginning of
1. Introduction

**Introduction**

** Hogwarts Castle, End of Harry's 6th year  
**

Harry was standing beside the heavy, old wooden door straining to hear the conversation within the room. He leaned against the cold stone wall and studied the Marauder's Map, which he was clutching. Neville Longbottom had his wand out and stared over Harry's shoulder at the map. They looked at each for a moment not sure what to do.

The map revealed that inside this very room the last of the true Marauders was stashed in a small antechamber hidden from the two Death-Eaters arguing in the main room. Bellatrix Lestrange and Peter Pettigrew could not find the thing for which they had come. Across the room was another wooden door obscuring three figures. Harry saw on the map that Ron and Ginny Weasley as well as Luna Lovegood were in a similar predicament as Harry and Neville. Harry knew he had to make his move before his friends put themselves in harms way.

Harry looked up from the map and guffawed. O_ut of harms way_, he thought angrily, _if they were in harms way at Hogwarts, he didn't know where out of harms way was anymore_.

He glanced down at the map one more time to try gain composure only to see two miniature figures quickly approaching the map version of himself and Neville. Harry looked to his left and caught a glint from a crystal Hermione was wearing around her waist before he could actually see her eyes. Harry could see the side of her robes drenched with the blood that was slowing dripping from too long gashes the length of both of her forearms. Neville made a move to hex her companion, but Harry stopped him.

"Don't," Harry warned before turning on Hermione, "How did he get away from you?"

"I'm not exactly at the top of my game right now," she hissed indicating her bloodstained arms. "Harry listen carefully," she was now adding urgently, "he can't use magic or have magic used on him until he's stronger. He wouldn't listen to reason. One stunner will do him in for good, do you understand?"

Harry nodded grimly. He didn't understand though, not really; but what was done was done and he wasn't going to let anyone die…._not again_.


	2. Tempermental Time

**Chapter 1  
Temperamental Time**

Time was playing a funny trick on 16-year-old Harry Potter; every second he was trapped in his aunt and uncle's house seemed like a painful eternity, yet a month had passed so quickly Harry could not believe it. It was a month ago Harry was tricked by Lord Voldermort to flee the safety of Hogwarts; It was a month ago Professor Dumbledore had stared down his crooked nose and told Harry that he would have to kill or be killed; and it was just one month ago Harry watched his godfather fall beyond the veil to his death. It took an eternity for those weeks to pass, but it only seemed like a moment ago to Harry.

Now young Harry waited for time to start moving properly again. He tried to distract himself by reading Quidditch books, letters from his friends, and back issues of the Daily Prophet. He occasionally toiled over some defensive spell books or played with his birthday gifts. Mostly he practiced Occlumency.

Harry seemed to be waiting for many things during the summer holiday before his sixth year at Hogwarts. Every morning he waited for the _Daily Prophet_ and news of the wizarding world. Each day Harry felt a knot of anxiety resurrect itself from the pits of his stomach and position itself firmly in his chest.

So far he worried in vain; Voldermort made no move yet. While the _Daily Prophet_ produced some articles relating to Voldermort and his Death-Eaters almost every day, no attacks had yet been reported. _The Quibbler_, however, had published detailed analysis of Voldemort's connection to a muggle rock band that was apparently brainwashing the world with catchy punk songs, Harry knew better than to take this seriously.

Harry also waited for letters from his friends. Ron had written a few short, totally useless notes. It turned out Ron was staying with his twin brothers and younger sister Ginny in Diagon Alley above Fred and George's joke shop. Ron was having the best summer of his life earning money and playing liberal amounts of Quiddich with some pretty Ravenclaws that had taken up a flat nearby in London. Harry was happy to get news of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes and the whole Weasley family (well, excluding the never mentioned estranged Percy Weasley), but what Harry really wanted to know was too sensitive to be sent by owl: Harry wanted to know what the Order of the Phoenix had planned for Lord Voldermort. He wanted to know what they knew of Voldemort's plans. But, he would have to wait.

Harry's other best mate, Hermione Granger, was a bit more generous with her ink and already sent Harry four post cards from her holiday trip to the U.S. with her muggle parents. She sent them via muggle post, which caused more excitement in Harry's summer so far then anything else.

"Harry got mail," his cousin Dudley had cried one afternoon.

When Uncle Vernon saw the post card from New York City he bellowed, "What would one of your kind be doing using our mail? And a postcard! Anyone could have read this and learned about your abnormality!" Vernon Dursley had proceeded to read the card out loud to his wife Petunia as to survey potential damage caused by the possibly, nosey postman.

_Dear Harry,_

_NYC is so big and there are some many people about I can hardly help but thing how much Mr. Weasley would love it here! I've seen Times Square and the Statue of Liberty. We went to a Broadway musical as well! The plane ride was very long, but quite a bit safer then the last couple times I've gone flying with you!_

_Love, Hermione_

_PS: I miss you!_

As Vernon finished, Harry couldn't help but smile to himself remembering mounting Buckbeak the Hippograph with Hermione and flying up to a small tower window at Hogwarts to rescue Sirius. The smile quickly faded as Harry thought of his flight to the Department of Mysteries on the back of a thestral the night Sirius was killed. Harry felt his face flush red with anger at Hermione for making a joke about that night. Harry had stomped fiercely out of the kitchen without even trying to retrieve the postcard from his uncle.

Harry laid prostrate on his bed for a full ten minutes before the mammoth form of Dudley filled the doorframe of his bedroom. Since Harry had left for Hogwarts last year, his cousin had continued to become more muscular and intimidating. He was leaner now, but still large.

"Forgot your card," Dudley spat as he waved the picture of the New York City skyline. Harry merely grunted. "Don't you want it?"

"No," said Harry.

"Suit yourself," Dudley retorted reviewing the message. "Hermy-i-won? What kind of freak name is that?" Harry would have usually spoken up to protect his friend, but he was still angry about the flying joke. "Is it even a girl or a guy?"

"It's a girls name from Shakespeare" Harry answered vaguely recalling a conversation he had with Hermione years earlier, "If you ever meet her I'm sure she'll tell you all about it." Harry was sure she would explain quite thoroughly too, he thought to his amusement; although he saw no reason why he would ever subject Hermione to that encounter.

"Oh, your kind read Shakespeare? Don't you have your own books?"

Rather then engage in a conversation that would surely end in Harry being told off for talking about his abnormality, Harry continued to lay motionless on his bed. But Dudley persisted. "What's wrong with you anyway?"

"Nothing," Harry said flatly.

"No, there's plenty off about you," Dudley sneered, "but this summer it's different. You've changed."

"No I haven't," Harry answered flatly again.

"Yes you have" Dudley pressed.

Harry shot up to his feet and walked over to the doorway where Dudley was standing. He grabbed the postcard from Dudley's hand and made to slam the door. But Dudley's arm shot out keeping to door open.

"Why do you come back here if you hate it so much?" Dudley inquired staring keenly at Harry.

"Why don't you ask your Mum?" Harry replied thinking about the promise his aunt had made to Dumbledore fifteen years ago. "Besides it's not exactly my choice."

"Couldn't you go live with that murdering godfather of yours?" Harry felt the color drain from his face; he couldn't escape Sirius anywhere. It took all his concentration not to breakdown and use magic to make Dudley hurt every bit as much as he did at that moment.

"I knew it!" Dudley exclaimed misreading Harry's reaction. "You don't even have a godfather. You made him up! You don't have anyone!"

Harry stood very still. I just don't have the energy for any of this anymore, he thought to himself. "You're right about one thing," Harry said calmly looking up at Dudley with a mixture of pain and hate, "I don't have anyone."

Harry closed to door in Dudley's face and collapsed on his bed.

_No one_, a forceful, but sad voice repeated in his head. _Well maybe_, he thought to himself looking at the postcard in his hands as images of his Hogwarts friends filled his mind, _maybe not no one_.

When Harry awoke the next morning his anger about Ron's useless letters and Hermione's joke had subsided, leaving him with a familiar and awful void. And Harry Potter found himself waiting for the ever-looming promise of time: that it would heal even this wound.

This morning was different though. Harry was nearly as sad or lonely as he was restless. He had been shut up for four weeks and had little communication with the outside world. His aunt, uncle and cousin toke their cue from Harry and more or less avoided one another for four weeks. While a pile of letters, all useless and full of condolences, grew on his nightstand, Harry only answered a few. One note to Ron and Hermione each, to assure them that he was still breathing and one letter to Remus Lupin to thank him for his birthday gift and asking him to thank the others in the Order for their respective gifts to him.

Now Harry felt if he didn't move about and talk to someone he would burst. So he dressed. As he tucked his wand into his jeans, he was sure to position it so it wouldn't blow off his buttocks. He started toward Mrs. Figg's house not really sure how he would be received. He found out only last year Arabella Figg was a squib whom Dumbledore had placed in Harry's neighborhood to look over him. As Harry stepped out into the summer sun he cast a glance around the street wondering if Dumbledore had someone spying on him right now. Harry only found Mrs. Figg's tabby cat Mr. Tiblets. Together they headed down the road.

"Well," Mrs. Figg exclaimed when she found Harry and her cat on her front stoop, "I thought I would be seeing you a lot sooner then this! Don't just stand there, come in. I'll put on some tea."

The afternoon passed pleasantly enough. Mrs. Figg knew nothing about what the Order was up too, but did know that Harry hadn't been under 24-hour surveillance for the last week and half as he hadn't left his house in a month. She did not mention Sirius once, for which Harry was grateful. Around five Mrs. Figg escorted him home with several loud false alarms about potential Death Eaters and dementors that turned out to be nothing more then shadows.

"Be sure to visit again soon," she said patting him on the back and shoving him up the path of #4 Private Drive.

Harry returned to find Ron's owl Pig hooting loudly and fluttering around his room. Harry removed Pigs burden noticing Ron's letter was written in a sloppier then usual hand like he was angry or in a hurry.

_Dear Harry,_

_Have you heard from Hermione? She's acting really off. She came, by herself, to Diagon Alley to visit us all at the joke shop, but refused to stay longer then the afternoon even though Fred and George wanted her to stay on for the rest of the summer. She told them that she'd come back when you could come stay too._

_Yesterday, Dad let it slip she visited Dumbeldore and Lupin at the place we stayed last summer and got into something of an argument, but he won't say what about. I reckon it has something to do with you and the muggles though, because Dad said something about Dumbledore and her have differing ideas about your safety. Dad said he'd never seen anyone go on so long with Dumbledore without losing composure or quitting the argument._

_What's going on with the two of you!_

_Yours,_

_Ron_

The truth was Harry had not heard from Hermione in since her last postcard. He hadn't even gotten a birthday gift from her. Hedwig had been sent to her earlier that day, so Harry anticipated further explanation shortly.

Harry found it difficult to practice Occlumency that night because he kept on playing an amusing scene between Hermione and Dumbledore in his head. He calm and amused, her serious and business-like with a dialog going back and forth like a tennis match each with a logical answer for the other. "What is going on?" Harry thought to himself before drifting into sleep.

"About time!" Harry exclaimed the next morning when he awoke to find Hedwig hooting indignantly. However, it appeared Hermione hadn't really put much thought into her letter, as it was not her usual length or neatness. But she had managed to hurriedly scratch out:

_Dear Harry,_

_Sorry, but you'll have to wait for your birthday gift. Trust me it will be worth it. I'm not allowed to say exactly why because of safety and such (don't be angry!), but just hang in there!_

_Love,_

_Hermione_


	3. When Worlds Collide

**Chapter 3  
When Worlds Collide**

For five days in a row Hermione had arrived at #4 Privet Drive at nine o'clock only to return hours later as the sun was setting. The days were not always passed in the most amusing activities. Harry would never forget the horror that ensued when he and Hermione went to check on an order of white roses to find thousands of blood red flowers waiting for them.

Since Harry became a wizard, he visited many places he never imagined gracing with his presence. There was Platform 9 ¾, Hogwarts castle, Diagon Alley and the Quidditch World Cup for example. However, Thursday morning was spent some place Harry never thought he would find himself: a beauty parlor. While Hermione had her nails painted in preparation for Saturday's wedding Harry sat in the waiting area feeling out of place (but, still more happy then he would have been on Privet Drive).

Harry could not help but think that Hermione was putting on a little bit of a show for him. She seemed to be having a good enough time around him, but when he mentioned Charlotte or Gray she would roll her eyes and insist they concentrate on whatever task was at hand.

Hermione's nails were not the only things that Charlotte thought needed improving for her wedding. Everyday Harry ran out to the convertible Hermione had a new hairstyle. Each day it seemed to get progressively straighter. By Thursday her hair was poker straight and cascading gracefully down her back. Harry had only asked her about the straightening process once; Hermione responded, "Charlotte thinks I've gotten too skinny for big hair." Harry didn't press the subject.

So by Thursday afternoon Hermione had straight hair, painted nails and had worked up an appetite.

"Harry you wouldn't mind eating lunch with Gray and Char at the country club would you?"

"I guess not."

"Good because I already agreed to go and I don't really want to force you to be around them or anything, but I really need to join them."

"Hermione, it's not a big deal. My cousin punched you, I think I can handle a lunch with the-soon-to-be-Mrs.-Granger."

"Great, but they'll be some other people there too," she added hesitantly.

"Like who?" Harry asked skeptical of Hermione's hesitation.

"Umm… my parents for one, and the maid-of-honor and her husband, the best-man and his wife, and Charlotte's cousin Randy who's the other groom's man, oh and of coarse Charlotte's and Gray's parents."

Harry agreed and they drove off to the club and Hermione parked her own car again. The woman at the front desk showed them into a fancy restaurant and toward a crowded table. Hermione's parents stood up and gave each gave her a hug.

"How was your week? Charlotte just told us how helpful you've been," Mrs. Granger said.

"Yes it's been a busy week. Err…you remember Harry, don't you?" Hermione asked of her parents.

"Oh hello, Harry. We didn't know you'd be joining us," Mr. Granger said as he shook Harry's hand.

"Well Harry here has been indispensable," Charlotte said sugary-sweet. "I never knew a boy to give up a week of his summer holiday to help his _friend _with bridesmaid's duties!"

"Yes, right, good show, Harry," Mr. Granger said less friendly and eyeing Harry critically.

Hermione was finishing hugging her mother, when she noticed the tension building. "Right," she said enthusiastically. "Let me introduce you to the rest Harry." She went around the table pointing out each person she had promised would be there, but finally landing on an addition. "Oh and this is errr... Cameron Rowe," she added somewhat fretfully.

Cameron Rowe was probably a couple years older then Harry and Hermione. He was at least six inches taller then Harry, with blond hair and sparkling blue eyes that were somewhat cold. Harry couldn't help but notice that Rowe was probably an athlete and wearing preppy clothes that made Harry believe he was probably an academic too.

"Good to meet you, Potter," Rowe said strongly shaking his hand. "Mercury here was just talking about you the other day," Rowe added putting his arm around Hermione's shoulder and pulling her into an awkward hug. "So you too go to school together, eh?"

Harry had no time to wonder why Rowe was calling Hermione Mercury, before panic struck. They hadn't discussed how much Hermione's family knew about magic. However, Hermione interceded with: "Yes we do. Gee, I'm starving let's order."

Harry pulled up an extra chair and sat next to Hermione, who took the only empty chair at the table next to Rowe.

"Mercury?" Harry asked in a voice he thought was small enough that only Hermione could hear.

"Ha!" said Rowe loudly enough to call the attention of the whole table toward him and squeezing Hermione's shoulder. "Old nickname Potter, goes back to when Merc and I went to science camp together. You know her initials. She calls me Chrom."

Harry had no idea what Rowe was talking about, but nodded in agreement anyway. _Chrom_ seemed to pick up on Harry's insincere consent and asked, "You do know what I mean, don't you Potter? The periodic table of elements?" Charlotte gave a divisive laugh while Harry's face burned. He was a wizard, what did he know about muggle science?

Hermione looked panic stricken. Harry thought that it would be best to let the situation slide by without rising.

"Not a student then, Potter?" Rowe was saying as Hermione desperately pleaded with him to stop. "Come down Merc, we just all want to get to know your friend a little better. So, do you play any sports, Potter? You an athlete?"

Harry of course did not look like an athlete. He was small and skinny with long, lean arms, the perfect body type for a Quidditch seeker. In fact, Harry was the best Gryffindor seeker since the Charlie Weasley and was the youngest team member in a century. But Harry simply replied, "Yes."

"Yeah, what do you play, crew? You've got the body for that."

"Cameron Rowe, you know very well Harry isn't in _crew_!" Hermione said pointedly turning to give Harry an apologetic smile. Harry was furious, but noticed Hermione was nearly in tears. He did his best to calm himself down.

"Sorry Merc, its just he doesn't look like much of an athlete," Rowe said slyly smiling at Hermione a playfully punching her arm.

"Well, appearances aren't everything. For instance looking at you one might think you have manners."

Harry felt a little vindicated, but in general was relieved when Charlotte intervened apparently upset she was getting so little attention. Lunch progressed without any more incidents. 

Hermione and her family discussed some issue from _The Economist_, they all seemed to put a lot of credence into it. Hermione, Harry happily noticed, had corrected her family on several occasions referencing the outside literature he had seen her reading. One memorable comment had caught Rowe totally off guard and eradicated his sly smile for a good ten minutes.

Hermione's parents and indeed the rest of the table were apparently pleased with all the effort she had put into the conversation. Charlotte, however, seemed put out that Hermione had stolen the show again.

"So," Charlotte began, "Harry how do you feel about African politics in the twentieth century?"

Harry had not participated in the conversation so far, as he knew very little about the subject. He remembered reading about a goblin rebellion in the Congo and a recent alliance between African Wizard's Alliance and the Ministry of Magic, but he thought that perhaps these weren't appropriate for the conversation at hand. "Errr… errr, you have to keep a positive outlook," he finally said.

"I agree completely with Harry," Hermione attempted to intervene with a more intelligent comment.

"I'm sure you do, Hermione," Charlotte said sweetly, but dismissively all the same. "That's ok Harry. Not everyone can be as observant as our little Hermione, isn't that right Gray?"

Gray did not look very pleased at the prospect of his involvement in the conversation, but replied any way. "Well the world would be a better place if it were true."

"Good point, Gray," said Mr. Granger obviously not happy with all the undo negative attention and his daughter. In attempt to change the subject he asked Rowe about he plans for university.

"He's going to Columbia University in the U.S., Dad you know that," Hermione said overly agitated.

"Yes, of course. So Charlotte, Grey is everything ready for Saturday?" Mr. Granger tried at a new subject.

"Well tomorrow is the final dress fitting for the bridesmaids, you know to double check the alterations. We have some out-of-town guests arriving tomorrow, as well. Beyond that the only other task is finding your daughter an escort."

"I already explained I really don't want a date," Hermione said flatly.

"But you should have one dear," Mrs. Granger suggested hopefully, "Carmon did offer to take you, didn't he?"

"That I did, Mrs. Granger," Rowe said, "Merc seems to think she'll have a better time on her own. I wouldn't want to force myself on her, would I?" Mrs. Granger looked crestfallen and cast her daughter a pleading look.

"I imagine Hermione knows best," Mr. Granger added as his daughter smiled warmly at him.

"Yes, but all the same," Charlotte added with a twisted smile and a honey sweet tone, "perhaps Harry would like to take her. After all he has helped out so much with the arrangements this week."

"He can't," asserted Hermione. Both the Grangers began to eye Harry again.

"Why not?" Charlotte chirped quickly and happily.

Hermione turned to Harry, pleading for an excuse. "I don't have a tux?" he answered hopefully.

"Oh well, we can take care of that this afternoon. Randy needs to get fitted too."

"Yes, but if Hermione would prefer -" Harry started.

"Don't be silly. No reasonable girl wants to go to a wedding alone. Unless you're trying to say you wouldn't take her?"

Harry stared incredulously at the insinuation he wouldn't help his friend. "If she wanted me to take her, I certainly would."

"Well then it's settled. We should really drop the shop a line and tell them we'll need another suit," Charlotte told Gray, Randy and Jeff the best man.

Harry's mind was frantic. What just happened? He looked over to Hermione who was pale with surprise and doing her best to meet the angry gaze of her mother. Mrs. Granger wasn't the only angry face either. Rowe was stared evilly at Harry behind Hermione's back.

After lunch Harry and Hermione were to follow the other men to get Harry a tux. The moment they got in the car tears seeped out of Hermione's eyes.

"Oh Harry, I'm so sorry. That was awful wasn't it? You would never have made me eat with the Dursley's."

"It's ok, _Merc_, I think I'll forgive you."

Hermione giggled a little. "He's terrible, isn't he? We were great friends when we were ten. He was much less attractive then. His sudden improvement over the last couple years has gone to his head. But our families are close and well, let's just say my mother wishes _our _wedding was on Saturday. But he's just like the car to her, more incentive for me to come home."

Harry was not sure what to do with this information so only uttered an, "Oh."

"Harry you don't need to do this. After that lunch I understand if you just want me to drop you off at home."

Harry thought for a moment that maybe this was the best idea. He had not actually enjoyed the afternoon's company. But then he thought about Hermione telling her family that he would not take her and even worse them forcing her to go with Rowe.

"No, it will be fine," he said finally.

"Are you sure," Hermione questioned. "I mean, you'll see me again in a week?" Hermione's face contracted in horror. "Oh no, I'm as bad as Hagrid. I wasn't supposed to say."

"What?" Harry asked excitedly.

Hermione sighed; the damage was done. "Well Dumbledore said you needed to stay with the Dursley's to the end of next week. After that he was going to send Lupin to see if you wanted to go to Grimmauld Place."

"Why wouldn't I?" Harry beamed. But, Hermione only bit her lip. Harry suddenly realized that it would be a Grimmauld Place without Sirius.

"I'm sorry, Harry," said Hermione apologetically.

"No its fine, lets just go get me a tux, eh?" he added quickly to change the subject.

Hermione gave him a small smile as they drove off.

The Friday before Charlotte and Gray's wedding was the first day in a week Harry had not seen Hermione. During the day she had a dress fitting and told Harry there was no need to subject him to her being pinned and prodded. Harry was invited to the rehearsal dinner as well, but Hermione politely declined on his behalf reminding him of his sunset curfew.

So Saturday came and Hermione picked Harry up at the crack of dawn. He nearly made it out of the house without being spotted by his aunt and uncle, who were both shocked to see him in a tux.

"What are you wearing?" Petunia demanded.

"I believe it's called a tuxedo."

"Don't you be smart with us boy!" bellowed Vernon, waking Dudley in the process.

Harry sighed. He knew Hermione was waiting so he thought it easiest to just explain. After all, a wedding was muggle enough for even the Dursley's to comprehend.

"I'm going with Hermione to her cousin's wedding at the Cheshire Country Club."

For a few minutes of the Dursley's commenting on how conceited Cheshire members were and then threatened Harry not to embarrass them in front of anyone who might draw a connection between the Dursley's and himself.

As Harry drew near the car Hermione called out, "Hurry up, if I'm late Char will never let me forget it! Why are you dressed already?"

"I'm not supposed to be dressed?"

"I just assumed you would change when we got there," Hermione said as Harry noticed she was defiantly not dressed yet. Hermione's hairy was pulled back into a wavy ponytail and she was wearing cotton shorts and a plain white Tee. "Take your jacket off or it will get all wrinkled," she demanded as they drove off. Harry threw his coat into the back seat with an angry cry from Crookshanks.

Hermione had abandoned Harry with Gray, Randy and Jeff to go and get ready. Gray seemed to be unreasonably jumpy, so Randy and Jeff had taken to give him shots followed by a spray of mouthwash.

"Harry mate," Gray exclaimed slapping him on the back, "Glad you made it. Boys get this man a drink." He tossed his arm around Harry and pulled him into the room with Randy and Jeff. Randy offered Harry a drink, but he refused only saying 8 o'clock was far too early for him to drink. Harry couldn't help wonder the state Gray would be in by the time the wedding began in three hours.

"Listen little man," he was addressing Harry again, "I know I don't know you very well, Harry, but I can honestly say there's something about you that I like, you know what I mean?"

"Err… sure I do. I'm quite likable. Why don't we sit down? I'll go get you some coffee."

"See now, that's a noble thing to do, getting me some coff- hiccup - ee. Don't you agree boys?"

"Sure do, Gray!" they responded only slightly more sober then the groom.

After Harry returned with the coffee and had hidden the open bottle he sighed with relief. As Gray sobered up a bit he started to return to his nervous behavior. He was habitually smoothing out his suit and paced the room.

An hour before the wedding Hermione's parents arrived. Mrs. Granger had gone to help the woman, while Mr. Granger came to check on Gray.

Before he had even had a chance to consult with Gray he stared with horror at Harry open mouthed. "Harry, why are you covered in cat hair? It was that dreadful cat wasn't? I don't care how many mice it can catch in a week, it's the ugliest cat I've ever met!"

Mr. Granger seemed to be angrier with Crookshanks then Harry, which was to Harry's great relief. He dragged Harry toward a mirror and pulled a lint brush remove orange hairs from Harry's coat. Eventually Gray's pacing and vow reciting became so distracting Mr. Granger suggested he make his nephew a drink.

Catching Mr. Granger's arm, Harry shook his head and said, "I don't know if that's the best idea, it's taken me two hours to get that lot this sober."

Mr. Granger smiled and clapped Harry on the shoulder with a greeting of, "Good man Harry." Harry had the distinct impression he was growing on Hermione's dad.

At 10:30 the men were getting ready to board the cars, when Mrs. Granger descended the steps and handed Harry a set of keys. In an unfriendly undertone she told him, "Hermione says you must not go in the limo and it is imperative you stay near her grandmother's car at all times. You'll have to drive yourself."

With that she swept back up the stairs. A new panic rose in Harry's chest, he couldn't drive. He hadn't even driven Ron's flying Ford Anglia, there was no way he'd make it in one piece to the church… well, there was that anti-collision charm, but how would he explain that to the groom's men if they saw? Mr. Granger, however, was kind enough to forego the limo and drive with Harry.

All the men had been extremely concerned with getting to the church on time, but after waiting 45 minutes for the woman to arrive Harry began to doubt the punctuality was truly as vital as an increasingly frantic Gray had led him to believe.

Harry had taken initiative and helped with the ushering duties as it was now taking both of the groom's men to assure Gray that Charlotte was indeed the right woman for him. Harry doubted that Charlotte was the right woman for anyone, well he there were a few people he would not have minded having to suffer her (Snape came to mind).

Then for the second time in a week the appearance of Hermione took Harry's breath away. He was walking down the aisle after helping an older woman into the bride's side of the chapel when he caught sight of her.

Hermione was wearing a purple silk gown that was fitted at the top but expanded out into a poofy skirt supported by layers of stiff white mesh (that Hermione would later tell Harry was very itchy). It was strapless and dipped down into a "V" down her back. There was a darker purple slash tied around her waist and into a large bow in the back. The dress stopped right below Hermione's knees so that a pair of very insensibly heeled shoes was visible.

Her hair was straight as Harry had become accustom to seeing over the last week. But many little purple flowers had been woven into it skillfully. When Harry got closer he could smell each flower; it was the most amazing scent. It made his head spin. From that moment on, he always associated the smell of lilac with Hermione.

"You approve?" she asked hesitantly.

"Definitely." Harry said with a sigh. Grinning mischievously asked her, "How did you get those flowers to stay in your hair?"

"Oh that," she said raising an eyebrow and smiling just as mischievously, "That was magic."

"Ok, but how did you get that dress to stay up?" Harry said, not really sure if had taken the joke too far.

"Wouldn't you like to know," was all Hermione replied.

There might have been more to her answer, but just then they heard the sound of someone lurching as Gray covered the minister in vomit.

After the wedding, Hermione and Harry drove in the convertible (top up to spare Hermione's hair) to the country club where, as always to spare the muggles, she parked her own car. Once inside they found Mr. and Mrs. Granger enjoying the cocktail hour. As they approached Mr. Granger handed a glass of Champaign to his daughter and Harry.

"My dear, you look so beautiful," complimented Mr. Granger to his daughter Hermione.

"Yes princess, that dress is so flattering," Mrs. Granger said smoothing her daughter's hair as Hermione flushed a bit. "And Harry you do clean up nicely, don't you?"

Harry grinned uncomfortably and thanked Mrs. Granger for what he hoped was a compliment.

"So tell me, Harry dear," she continued, "How do you like Hogwarts? Our daughter talks most highly of it."

"I like it quite a lot."

"Hmm… yes," Mrs. Granger said as both Harry and Hermione sipped liberal amounts of their Champaign.

"Hermione, over here!" came the call of the maid of honor, "We need you to do some toasts with the rest of the wedding party."

"Be right there," she called back before turning to her parents, "Mum, Dad don't torture Harry too much." With that she was gone and the Grangers focused all their attention to Harry. They seemed overjoyed at the chance to question Harry about Hogwarts and magic without Hermione interrupting.

Harry found that the Grangers were nice people, but more critical then he expected – even her father who Harry thought he developed some rapport with. They were curious about the magic world the way Mr. Weasley was curious about the muggle world; but they lacked the good-natured enthusiasm of Mr. Weasley. Mrs. Granger was never impolite, but never warm. Harry had the distinct impression that he had just become the figurehead of the world that had taken their daughter away and they proceeded to question him in turn.

"Harry, how do you find classes? Hermione assures us they're nothing more than an intellectual challenge and full of useful information."

"Err... That about sums it up."

"Right, ok. But do you find them dangerous at all?"

"Dangerous how?"

"Well," began Mrs. Granger with the slightest hint of outrage, "I'm always getting word from Madame Pomfrey that Hermione has been injured. She and my daughter are not always forth coming with details mind you. Let's see… second year was the worst of course, she was in the infirmary for three weeks after an incident with a cat that was never fully explained and then she had some mysterious disease that rendered her incapable of communication for weeks."

"Oh, don't forget her teeth dear, we didn't even find out about that until six months afterward. I still don't understand that one either."

"Right you are, both her parents dentists and she goes and gets her teeth cursed without telling us. And of course two months ago your headmaster sent us a letter explaining that Hermione had gotten into some scrap with adults in London and was injured. For the life of us she won't explain that one at all," Mrs. Granger gave a final huff, "So we were just wondering do all Hogwarts students sustain as many injuries as our daughter?"

Harry gulped. Hermione had not even explained that she was petrified in second year. The situation was impossible; it was not his place to get involved in this. Harry refused to lie _or _give away an of Hermione's secrets. Finally he truthfully said, "I do."

"Really?" said Mr. Granger eyeing him skeptically. "Alright then, how about breaks. Do you spend all your breaks at school like Hermione or do you go home? Our daughter has not come home for Christmas in four years."

"I do," Harry answered truthfully again gulping a little more Champaign, "I haven't gone home for Christmas in five years." Huh, Harry thought, this is getting a little bit easier. He was ready for the next question, "Anything else?"

"Tell me, Harry," Mr. Granger began, "do many students have umm… muggle parents."

"Not the majority, but enough. In our house and year there's only one other muggle-born, but lots of people are half-and-half, you know one magical parent, one muggle."

"How about this Victor. He writes Hermione all the time, last summer he even wrote us for permission to have Hermione come visit him in Bulgaria. But our daughter assures us its nothing for us to get concerned about."

Harry was at a loss for words. He had no idea what sort of relationship existed between Hermione and Krum, but he finished off his drink and continued with the conversation valiantly:

"He's a nice enough guy. I don't really know him that well." The Grangers did not look satisfied with this answer. Harry took a second glass of Champaign and searched his mind for something else to tell them about Krum. "He's an amazing athlete, you know. He's quite well known in the wizarding world, one of the biggest Quidditch stars out there today. He plays seeker on his national team."

"So Victor is famous?" They both asked incredulously, exchanging a look that told Harry he had given away one of Hermione's secrets.

"Errr… a little I guess," Harry said searching his mind for a better answer, but only coming up with the same faithful reply, "well really, I follow Quidditch so I know about him. But honestly, he's no more famous than me." Harry was beaming when he finished, quite proud he had scrapped together such an honest response.

"Right, I see," said Mrs. Granger taking her turn in the questioning. "Well then, Hermione told us about a bully some years back. Oh dear, what was his name?"

"Oh it was Dragon or some non-sense like that."

"Yes, yes that's it. Dragon. Now does he single out our daughter or is he just mean in general. Frankly, I don't like the idea of someone picking on our Hermione and her not telling us about it. Its best parents know these things, so that we can protect her."

Harry did not no what to say. He was surprised that Hermione told her parents anything about Malfoy, but perhaps after they saw Mr. Weasley fight with Malfoy's father she had no choice. He didn't want to lie, Malfoy did single Hermione out, but he did not want to alarm her parents either.

"Draco's a prat in general, but he does give Hermione a harder time on account that she's muggle-born. But what do you expect from his lot. All those Lord Voldemort supporters are prats."

Mr. Grangers was beginning to ask "Lord Who?" when Hermione joined them. She was smiling as brightly as Harry, and Harry thought that her face was a little more pink then usual.

"Mum, Dad leave Harry be," she said frantically giving Harry a look of _how-could-you _as he realized he brought up the taboo subject of Voldemort.

Casting a look at the dance floor Harry was relieved to find a distraction. "Look Gray and Char are having their first dance. He still looks like he's going to hurl though," Harry added louder then intended and received several glares from other guests. Harry looked over to Hermione and they both sipped on their drinks.

Mrs. Granger took advantage of their preoccupation and questioned critically, "Are you two together?"

Almost spraying her mother with Champaign Hermione said, "Mum, you know the only reason Harry came today - "

But now Mr. Granger began his own line of questioning, "Harry, what do you plan on doing after you graduate? When our daughter was young she wanted be prime minister or a doctor like her parents. Now, what did you say you were interested in dear; 'civil rights' was it? Potter, what do you make of all this?"

"Errr…" was all Harry managed before Hermione spoke up.

"Dad I don't need to know my exact plans right now. I'm only going to be 16 and I'm not Gray you know!"

"Didn't say you were dear. We know you're different than Gray. This isn't your world, we understand. We were simply trying to ascertain what it is you do once you are a witch."

"Harry dear, what about elfish welfare and what is it you say dear… _equality of blood_?" Mrs. Granger questioned them both.

Harry didn't know what to say. He was in the middle of someone else's family's wedding, getting sucked into some else's family feud – this was uncharted territory. Moreover, he had no idea what Hermione wanted to do with her life. He stole a glance at his date for guidance, but her eyes were tightly shut as she gulped the last of her Champaign.

His head was swimming with confusion and the best he could do was suck back the rest of his drink and studded, "Err…well…civil rights…there's, err….it's a good field really."

Harry finally caught Hermione's eyes as she handed him another glass of Champaign and mouthed "civil rights?" She simply rolled her eyes, sipped on her own new drink, and turned on her parents. "Well you know, Mum and Dad it's important that I protect my right to be a witch. There are some wizards who think because my heritage is purely muggle I shouldn't be taught magic at all!"

"That's so like you, more worried about not learning something. No way, that's not what I would worry about 'Mione," Harry chirped more enthusiastically then intended. "I'd worry about Voldemort and his lot slowly torturing you to death."

Harry later came to the opinion that three glasses of Champaign in under an hour might have been over his limit.

Hermione might have passed it off as a joke or exaggeration if she too was slightly passed her own tolerance of Champaign. A paled and gaping Hermione recovered quickly with a retort of, "Well, I have the right to life and witchcraft, don't I? And if that means putting myself in harms way, so be it! I will be prepared to fight in this war."

If she hadn't hiccupped at the end, Harry thought, the speech would have been more impressive.

As Hermione's parents pulled her away to continue there inquisition of her involvement in a war they knew nothing about, Harry did not feel guilty at all. If he had parents, if he was not _destined _to fight, if he could have been normal, that is what he would have chosen: to be normal. For the first time in a week Harry sank back into his deep depression, sulking about the unfairness of losing Sirius and his parents.

Harry found his way to a chaise chair in the back of a garden. He loosened his tie and pulled off his jacket. He leaned back on the chaise and kicked his legs up onto it so violently the chair flipped. Harry was sure he heard a snicker as he slid off the chair.

"Whose there?" he demanded reaching for his wand. There was no answer, no noise, no one. He eyed his surroundings suspiciously for a moment before he was convinced of his insanity. "I can see Skeeter's headline now," he mumbled darkly, "Intoxicated Boy-Who-Lived Falls from Chaise to his Death; Muggle-born Girlfriend Flung Back Into the Arms of Victor Krum."

Harry heard another sudden noise, grabbed his wand and looked up to see Hermione coming at him rapidly. She had tears streaming down her face and her eyes flashed a dangerous anger toward him. She opened her mouth to scold him, but could not find the words. Instead she flapped her arms, huffed and began to pace, stopping occasionally to look at Harry and huff again.

While Harry found Hermione's antics mildly amusing and was enjoying watching her float back and forth as her hair swooshed side to side, he found himself remembering his resentment toward her at that moment.

"What Hermione? Just say whatever it is," Harry commanded expecting her to go off on him for letting her secret out.

"Its just…" she began as tears streamed down her cheeks and all other attempts at speech became inaudible. She flopped down next to Harry on the chaise. Harry no longer felt quite so angry. He watched water leak from Hermione's eyes and down her face occasionally dripping her bare chest or spotting her silk gown.

Hermione hiccupped and finally brushed away the tears. "Its just," she began again this time turning to look Harry square in the eyes, "Its just, why do they have to make it even harder for me. I'm so tired of having to keep up with two worlds. I'm tired…" she trailed off still gazing up into Harry's eyes. She let out a deep shaky breath, without interrupting her gaze.

Harry felt a funny squirm in his stomach that had nothing to do with Champaign or Lord Voldemort. He sat transfixed by two deep brown eyes that were so familiar, yet so new. In the back of his mind Harry thought that maybe Hermione should be teaching him Occlumency because at that moment his mind was entirely blank and he had no idea what to do.

Apparently Hermione did. Before Harry knew what was happening, Hermione had leaned toward him and planted a quick, hard kiss on Harry's mouth. It happened so fast Harry had no time to react, aside form the shocked expression that spread across his face. Harry could not help but notice Hermione did not look any less shocked than Harry.

"I'm sorry," she said in a horrified voice springing to her feet. She made to run for the dance hall, but Harry grabbed her wrist and pulled gently back down to the chaise.

Harry needed to know what just happened. "Hermione, what was that about?" Harry said in a bemused and awkward voice that he willed with all his might to return too normal.

"I don't know! I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have done that! Oh, no," she continued in a panic. "I just couldn't take it anymore. Everyone being angry, that is. Well that and you know, that voice everyone has in the back of their head telling them what's right and wrong?"

"Yeah, mine uses your voice," Harry said quite relieved his voice was normal (at least more so then Hermione's at the moment).

"Well mine won't shut up! There's a constant angry buzz ordering me about. Be patient Hermione, Ron doesn't understand. Don't lose your tongue with Dumbledore, Hermione, he knows what's best for Harry. Stay calm Hermione, Char and Gray don't mean to patronize. Don't tell them Hermione, Mum and Dad won't understand. Smile Hermione, don't let Harry know you're sad too. Keep reading Hermione, there are two worlds to keep up with."

Harry did not know what to make of Hermione's candor. If he should be angry at his inclusion or hug her and hope she would stop. It seemed Hermione did not know either. She looked up into his eyes for answers, apparently only then realizing what she had unleashed on her friend.

"Oh Harry, I'm sorry. Twice in one night. I shouldn't have burdened you with all this. You have enough to deal with and here I am complaining about my family when you don't…Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry, I'll just go."

Hermione again made to run back to the dance hall, but Harry's hand was still securely around her wrist. "Wait, Hermione. Just wait. Give me a minute to think."

But Harry found thinking impossible. He chanced a look at Hermione. Her face was still wet with tears. She was determinedly staring at her knees. Harry's head spun so that he understood completely what Hermione had meant about the angry buzzing.

He stared down at her and slowly two deep, brown eyes turned up to meet his gaze. The buzzing quieted. He looked from her eyes, down the side of her face, down the curve of her neck and shoulder, and finally along her arm to the tips of her fingers. Harry found his hand lightly gliding along the same delicate path. He also found that his breathing was ragged and heavy. His eyes found their way back to Hermione's expectant gaze.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he leaned forward and kissed Hermione softly. He never would have expected her lips to be so welcoming or so sweet. Harry could feel his heart pulsing in every part of his body. He pulled away just as slowly finally opening his eyes. Hermione's eyes were still closed, her hands were shaking in his, but Harry could see the corners of her lips turn into the faintest smile.

While Harry pondered how he never noticed how lush and red Hermione's lips were, she was slowly opening her eyes. She said softly, "And what was that about?"

"I don't know," Harry said honestly. He didn't know maybe it was the same desire Hermione had to quiet the angry buzzing in her head, but at that moment he honestly did not know what had come over him.

"Sometimes," Hermione said looking intently at Harry's chest, really anywhere that wasn't directly into his eyes would have done. "Sometime I just wish for fifteen minutes my life could be normal. I know it sounds awful to you being your life is so … so much more _abnormal _then mine, but I've been a witch for five years and it still doesn't quite feel completely right, but this muggle world is definitely not where I belong anymore and I don't know what to do to make my world feel real. So I read and I work and I a try to keep you and Ron alive and in school and make sure I always do the right thing and whole time there is this buzzing my head that I'm letting someone down and…"

Hermione continued rambling on and saying things she never thought she'd share with anyone, let along Harry Potter. And Harry could honestly say he caught about half of it, but mostly he studied her lips as the opened and closed.

"…and SOMETIMES," Hermione finally crescendo-ed as she pulled on hand free from Harry to touch her brow. "I just wish I could turn it all off and make it - "

"Quiet," Harry offer as touched her cheek to turn her face toward his own.

"Yeah," she said meeting his eyes again.

They paused a moment before leaning toward one another. Right before their lips met Hermione voiced what Harry knew to be true: "This is a bad idea isn't it?"

"So what?" Harry said as he gave her a sly smile and pulled her into a deep kiss the likes of which he had never shared with anyone before. Harry Potter and Hermione Granger could honestly say for a good thirty minutes they each had only one thought on their minds.

Harry had only begun to work up the courage to move his hand onto Hermione's leg, when he found a startling surprise. Had run his hand along the outside of her right thigh and jolted upright when he felt something he had not expected.

"What…" he began, but Hermione was laughing.

"It's only my wand," she giggled covering her face with her hands as she shook with laughter, "What did you think it was?"

Harry was laughing now too. "Well I think I better check," he said looking down at her almost asking for permission.

"If you say so," she replied smiling up at him. Harry checked the dance hall to make sure no unexpected intruders were approaching. Carefully he took hold of the hem of Hermione's silk gown and slowly pulled it up passed one of her knees to the top of her thigh-high stalking where her wand was indeed stored securely. He tentatively ran a finger around the outline of her wand.

"Just in case," she said.

"In case of what?" Harry posed as he made to pull up the second half of her skirt.

"In case my escort gets rough with me," she said with a smile as she caught his hand and shook her head.

"Fair enough," Harry replied getting the drift and returning his attention to the leg he had successfully revealed from under the several layers of dress. He was moving in to kiss her again when….

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

Three loud cracks had gone off and before Harry had an opportunity to get him and Hermione in a more decent position he heard a voice he recognized bellow at him: "That is the most blatant disregard of basic wand safety I have in all my years witnessed!"

And with that both Harry and Hermione tumbled off their chaise and hit the ground. Harry heard his glasses snap as he landed on them (they had been removed for obvious reasons) and felt Hermione land behind him as the chaise tipped over. Harry pulled the remains of his glasses out from under him as Hermione frantically smoothed her dress down.

"Oh my, God," she said once fairly loudly before burying her head in Harry's shoulder blades and repeating the phrase over and over again.

Harry squinted up at a fairly familiar, blurry face before a very familiar voice chanted, "_oculus reparo_." Harry slipped on his glasses and stared up at two of his former Defense Against the Dark Arts professors, Mad-Eye Moody and Remus Lupin. Harry turned to look for the source of the third crack. He barely had time to work up a decent rage as he discovered the third apparated man to be none other then his hated Potions Master, Severus Snape, because Mad-Eye was once again yelling.

"Constant Vigilance, Mr. Potter! What if Death-Easters had just apparated here instead of us!" Mad-Eye barked while threateningly clunking his wooden leg.

"Well then I guess we'd all be relieved Hermione had foregone basic wand safety!" Harry replied savagely turning on Mad-Eye. With this Snape sneered and gave an audible snort. Harry made to tackle him, but only raised a couple of inches before realizing Hermione was grabbing the back of his shirt for all she was worth.

"What's up?" came a fourth familiar voice, this time Mundugus Fletcher. He had just hustled over from the other side of the garden and was clutching an invisibility cloak. Harry's mouth fell open and his face burned at the injustice of the situation. From behind him Hermione let out a sob that made it clear to Harry that she too realized Dung had been spying on them all along. Harry didn't know what to do. Yell at the four men gawking at him or try to comfort a now sobbing Hermione.

"And where have you been?" Mad-Eye demanded of Dung.

"Right over there. I'm a body guard not a baby sitter."

"I think you'll find with Potter's lot a babysitter would be more appropriate. Potter would not need half as much guarding if some one could keep him from wandering off. He obviously does not even understand his role at Hogwarts as he's found a way on top of the top student," Snape said easily smiling down at Harry and Hermione apparently very pleased he was able to blame Harry for Sirius' death and mock his current position in one blow.

Behind him Harry could physically feel Hermione switch from mortification to outrage as her sobs stopped and body tensed. She also released Harry, which he took as the go ahead to kill Snape and at that moment he would have. But Lupin intervened kneeling down and putting a hand on Harry's shoulder preventing him from rising and turning his face towards Snape in one quick motion.

Remus let out an authoritative, "Enough," in a voice as near anger as Harry ever heard Lupin use. "And watch your mouth," he snarled at Snape.

Meanwhile Hermione had again hidden herself behind Harry's shoulder blades. Lupin turned his grave face toward the two them, when it suddenly occurred to Harry there must be a reason the three of them suddenly apparated here.

"What's happened?"

"The Dark Mark was sent up in muggle London. We've just come from there and it seems to be a warning more then anything else. No one was injured, well directly at least. Panic erupted in muggle London and Diagon Alley. It was its first appearance since the World Cup two years ago and no one knew what exactly had happened," Lupin said softly and quickly. "Dumbledore wants the two of you to report to Grimmauld Place immediately." 

Harry nodded, but Hermione made no effort to show she had heard at all.

"Hey Hermione, do you hear me back there?" Lupin asked kindly and as unassumingly as the situation allowed.

Hermione took a deep breath and exhaled as if summoning all her courage before releasing Harry and looking at (or nearly at Lupin). "Fine, but we need to go tell my parents. They're not going to be happy though."

"No time, we're already behind schedule" scolded Mad Eye as his eye spun sickeningly around, "they could be anywhere you know in a crowd that large."

"Exactly who?" Lupin agitatedly asked, but thinking better of it resignedly said, "Never mind. Harry, Hermione you are going to take this portkey immediately. Hermione I promise I'll take care of your parents after you two are safe."

With that Lupin stood up and pulled Harry up with him. Harry in turn helped Hermione up. She looked horrified, perhaps more shaken then when boggart McGonagall had told her she failed all her subject third year. However, she attempted to muster as much dignity as she could. Both Harry and Hermione seemed to have an unspoken agreement not to look at the men around them.

As Lupin handed Harry the portkey quill, he turned to share it with Hermione, finally catching her tear stained eyes. Lupin was counting backwards from three when Harry grinned and in his most composed, most off-hand voice said, "Well at least you have a story for your grandchildren."

Hermione, who apparently had pulled herself together much more adequately then Harry assumed retorted, "Oh yes, the time three professors apparated into my cousin's wedding to find me with my bridesmaid dress around my waist, my wand in my stalkings, and Harry Potter on top of me. Yeah, that will be right up there with the time I turned myself into a cat."

Before Harry could laugh an odd sensation from behind his navel (not nearly as pleasing as the last sensation he had in that region) sent him flying through space toward #12 Grimmauld Place.

Harry and Hermione found themselves standing in a dinning room they recognized. Harry had his first proper look at Hermione only after landing. She looked beautiful, but distinctly had the appearance of a drunken prom queen. The flowers in her hair still-straight hair were out of place and her dress was slightly twisted to one side. Her eyes were read and cheeks tear stained. She giggled when she looked up at Harry and he imagined he did not look much better.

"Wow, tough trip then?" the voice of Fred Weasley quipped.

"Oh no, brother," said his identical twin George, "That is not portkey hair, that is make-out hair, I'm sure of it."

Harry was about to round on them, when Hermione intervened with just two words to the twins, "Leave it." The twins smirked at each other before looking toward Harry who threw them a threatening glance.

It was only then Harry realized the room was full of Order members: the Weasley patriarch Arthur, Kingsley Shaklebolt, several men Harry didn't recognize, the two eldest Weasley boys, and to Harry's great delight Hagrid.

Professor Dumbledore entered the room with Professor McGonagall and threw Harry a warm smile. Harry nodded at him still peeved by the lack of communication over the summer and the spy watching him carry on with Hermione.

Four loud cracks announced the arrival of Harry's guard. But before they entered, Fred could not resist one last-jab at the two obviously disheveled students. "Lovely dress Hermione," he commented.

"That seems to be a popular opinion, Mr. Weasley," said the cold, steady voice of Snape.

This time he had gone too far. Lupin had snapped; Harry imagined he was still angry over Snape's earlier comment. He had seized Snape by the front of his robes and threw him against the nearest wall. From mere centimeters from Snape's face he said, "Not. Another. Word. Do you hear me?"

Snape only smirked and smoothly said, "Now Remus – temper, temper. We all know where hot headedness landed the rest of your gang."

Lupin seemed to be so appalled he was quite speechless. Harry, however, could think of several words that would suffice; the most prominent were Crucio and Avada Kedavra. But when he reached for his wand, Hermione's hand shot out and lightly touched him. It was enough to send a shiver down his spine.

Still, Harry could not let him get away without any rebut. "_Professor _Snape," Harry spat, much to the visible dismay of Hermione, "I'd rather my father and godfather were dead then locked up in Azkaban like the rest of your gang."

Every word was rich with hate and now that Harry was done speaking them, he summoned every foul curse he could imagine to the front of his mind. He locked into Snape's stare, practically begging him, daring him to read his mind as he churned up obscenities that would make even Ron blush.

Lupin grinned manically at Snape and gave a small guffaw before loosening his grip, "Out of the mouths of babes, Snivellus."

Harry was sure Snape would have had some comment had it not been a calm voice from the head of the table, "Perhaps, we could all take our seats as we have matters of some urgency to discuss." The room quieted at this as no one dared to go against Dumbledore's command. Everyone sat, one with the coaxing of Hermione.

"Perhaps, we could all take our seats as we have matters of some urgency to discuss." The room quieted at this as no one dared to go against Dumbledore's command. Everyone sat, Harry with a gentle coaxing from Hermione.

"As you should all know and hour ago the Dark Mark was sent into the air in muggle London. The Weasleys set off the alarm much quicker then anyone could have hoped. However, when we congregated there were no witnesses to be found. Chaos ensued and any witnesses scattered. Muggle media has since been advised to publish a reward notification for anyone with information regarding an illegal fire works display," Dumbledore said eyes twinkling for a moment before continuing. "Once the mark dissipated order resumed. Kingsley, could you please relate to the events that unfolded in Diagon Alley?"

Kingsley stood as Dumbledore sat and everyone's eyes shifted to the tall, black man who demanded nearly as much attention as Dumbledore himself. Kingsley was about to report on the state of Diagon Alley when to Harry's right Hermione's handbag began to vibrate and buzz. It was clear enough to Harry that Hermione's mobile phone was going off, a room full of edgy wizards sprang to their feet. Several, including Harry noticed Snape, had drawn their wands and pointed them directly at Hermione.

Harry had thrown a protective arm in front of Hermione and shouted, "No," while Lupin made to move in front of her. Hermione, for her part, huffed indignantly in way that forcibly reminded Harry of Hedwig. She threw and exasperated look around the room. "It's only a mobile phone, see, muggle means of communication and parental leashing device," she explained holding up the phone for the room to see.

"Why does it work here in Grimmauld Place?" Mr. Weasley ask keenly, always interested in muggle technology. "I thought you couldn't use ektical stuff around all this magic?"

"Well it's an enchanted muggle phone, perfectly safe," Hermione said off handedly staring at the caller ID display with an expression of horror spreading across her face. "It's my parents," she added panicking.

She stood up and looked to Harry then Lupin for assistance as the phone continued to ring. "Answer it," Lupin said with resolution, "and if they give you any trouble come get me. I'll talk to them." Harry vaguely recognized a twinge of guilt flicker across Lupin's face as her presumably recalled his earlier promise.

Hermione wasted only one more ring before flipping the phone open and attempting to rush out of the crowded room. "Hi Mum," Hermione began, "No we had to leave…What! No it was nothing like that! Mum! Oh for heavens sakes, yes apparently it was a good show, next time I'll charge bloody admission," were the last audible phrases Harry heard as the door slammed behind her. Harry felt his cheeks burn red and looked up in time to see he was receiving several quizzical, vaguely amused stares.

"Well," continue Kingsley breaking the silence and thankfully directing attention off Harry. "As I was saying, rioting broke out in Diagon Alley within ten minutes of the marks becoming visible. Ministry officials eventually restored order. As you know, however, this is the sort of happenstance we cannot afford with our resources so stretched. Maintaining order at Azkaban requires nearly half of all the Aurors and a good percentage of trained hit wizards. It is the Ministry's belief that this excitement was aroused to test the readiness of the Ministry and Order forces, either that or - "

"Bloody hell Mum," came Hermione's voice from the parlor, "He isn't actually royalty! ...RIDDLE, Mum then just call him bloody Riddle!"

Almost all of the wizards shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Some of them may have been prepared to start hearing the word Voldemort, but they certainly were not ready to hear anyone call the Dark Lord Voldemort "bloody Riddle."

Harry couldn't help cracking a small grin and diverting his eyes to Dumbledore, who to Harry's surprise gave him a small, but certainly intended wink.

"I believe that may be my cue," said Lupin somberly, "Just tell me that this isn't entirely because I made her leave without telling her parents?"

"Not entirely," Harry replied, "Err… her parent didn't know about Voldemort (Harry paused a moment to allow for wincing) until tonight."

"Oh," Lupin said meaningfully as if starting to comprehend the whole situation.

"I told you," Harry heard Professor McGongagall saying to Dumbledore, "We should have sent a letter to the muggle-borns' parents."

"Yes, perhaps we'll discuss that next," Dumbledore said knowledgably. "Well if that all…"

"No wait," George interject, "or what Kingsley?"

Kingsley's eyes lingered on George for a moment and then darted to Harry seemingly appraising the situation, "Or to cause a distraction to cover for a fouler scheme. Our initial thoughts were that perhaps Voldemort would move to abduct Harry or someone else to use as leverage. I contacted Dumbledore immediately and he dispatched forces to collect Mr. Potter and Miss Granger, while Nymphodora Tonks was sent to protect the remaining Weasleys in Diagon Ally. Once Diagon Ally has been successfully secured Tonks will escort the Weasleys here."

Harry's conscience weight heavily on him as five red heads shifted in their seats. "We told Ron and Ginny to make sure their friends made it back to their flat before they went back to the store," Fred said turning to his father.

"Indeed I have had reports from Tonks that she has secured your shop as well as your younger siblings and mother."

The twins looked slightly relieved, but did not crack their trademark grins until Dumbledore gave them leave to check on their shop and family. Soon after their departure Lupin re-entered the meeting and gave Dumbledore a significant nod.

"Ah… I believe we all have business to take care of, so be off and be careful! Minerva, I believe we have a letter to attend to," Dumbledore said as the crowd began to thin.

As Harry watched Hagrid make his way toward him he distinctly heard Lupin call out, "Arthur, Albus a word please? I think we may need to move to Plan B." Harry strained his ears to try and hear a bit of what Plan A was or why they were moving to Plan B. However, Hagrid was now leading Harry into the parlor.

"Now never you mind that 'arry. I think you had quite enough excitement to get along with for one night. I got yer letter. Too bad ya had a rotten summer. Maybe it'll pick up a bit now yer back in yer element," said Hagrid cordially patting Harry's back and sending him stumbling into a wall.

"Yeah well, with Hermione visiting this past week wasn't so bad," Harry admitted.

He suddenly realized he did not know what became of Hermione after she left, or for that matter, what he would say when he saw her again. The weight of the Dark Mark's appearance had sufficiently distracted him, now he was forced to deal with the fact he just made out with one of his best friends. And, Merlin's beard, what was Ron going to say!

"Listen Harry, what was all that before the meeting? And why was Hermione crying? And where the devil did she get to?"

"I don't know," Harry replied quickly back tracking to the dinning room to ask Lupin. He opened the door to find Moody, Lupin, Dumbledore, and the remaining Weasley's in deep conversation.

"Professor Lupin," Harry rebounded quickly, "What happened to Hermione?"

"Oh!" he exclaimed as if just realizing he had left an iron on, "She had a terrible brawl with her folks and locked herself in the loo."

"She does that sometimes," Harry said noticing how badly Lupin seemed to feel about the situation.

"Well do you think you could try and coax her out?"

"I'll try," Harry said casting one last futile glimpse at the group to try and get some sort of clue about what they were planning.

Harry looked up at Hagrid who seemed unusually out of place with the prospect of talking Hermione out of the loo. He was much better at subduing large animals then girls. He turned to the locked door and then to Harry. "Best leave you to it then, Harry."

"Yeah," he replied.

With that Hagrid winked good-bye to Harry and yelled, "See you in a few weeks!" at the bathroom door.

"Tell Grawp I said hi!" Harry called after Hagrid as he left the room.

Harry walked over to the door not exactly sure what to say. He knocked gently and called out, "Hermione, why don't you come out now. Everyone's gone."

"Harry, I just need a few minutes," she sniffled.

Harry thought for a second before proceeding, "All right then, but if you get attached by a troll or turn into a cat don't blame me," he said mildly. He heard a sob but nothing else.

Harry retreated to the parlor and looked around. It was only then he remembered where he was. This was Sirius' house. Emotion poured in him so quickly he could feel his heart beat against his eardrums and the room began to spin uncontrollably. Then out of nowhere a voice called out to him and drew him back to solid ground:

"Harry, you alright?" It was Lupin. He had placed a heavy hand on Harry's shoulder and smiled warmly, but timidly at Harry. This was the Lupin Harry remembered, not the one that had been angry and abusive with Snape's earlier.

"Yeah," Harry lied rather unconvincingly.

"No luck then, eh?" Lupin continued indicating the door.

"No she won't come out 'till she's ready."

The Weasleys and Dumbledore filed into the parlor now as well.

"Professor McGonagall is off to write the muggle-born students," Dumbledore explained, "I remained to see if I could be of any assistance with calming Miss Granger down."

Harry who was now welcoming Charlie back to the country was about to reiterate that he was fairly certain that there could be no reasoning with Hermione at the moment when she answered for herself.

"No Professor, that won't be necessary." Hermione said as she emerged from the doorway, "I've just had a bit of a shock that's all."

She was still wearing her gown. Harry had forgotten. She looked nearly as enticing as she had at the church. Her dress was no longer off center and sitting funnily; her hair was smooth and speckled with the remains of her flower reef; her face was clean and dry. There was something irresistible about the way the bright back lighting from the loo illuminated her every curve and played off her silk dress. It was all accentuated by the fact he now knew what those curves felt like (or at least some of lesser ones).

Harry's gawking must have been fairly obvious because he only came around when Charlie discreetly pinched the back of his arm. He began listening again only to hear the end of Hermione's story. She spoke calm and slow, Harry knew she was forcing herself to remain composed.

"….and well it wasn't much of an option," she took a shallow, calming breath, "so my parents have disowned me."

Both the dam of tears broke, Mr. Weasley, Dumbledore and Lupin escorted Hermione into the dinning room and began discussing the situation at great lengths. Harry was left with the two eldest Weasley boys.

"So you came home, Charlie?"

"Yeah, mate. We set up a pretty good circle of members out in Eastern Europe last year. Dumbledore thought I could be more use back here. I pretty much recruited everyone I could in my own area of Romania. It would have been too suspicious if I kept taking long trips. So we develop _alternative _recruitment methods."

Harry really wanted to know what he meant by alternative recruitment methods, but thought that line of questioning would get him no where, "So you've left your dragons?"

Charlie sighed as if it brought him pain to admit it, "Yeah, I did. But I'm pursuing employment back in Britain now."

"Oh yeah? Where?"

"That's for me to know. You'll see soon enough."

"Ha!" Bill laughed, "Might as well tell him Charlie. Ronnie will as soon as he gets here."

"True, true. Well, Harry, as I'm told you know Hagrid has his hands full between helping the Order, his classes, game keeping duties and tending to his… errr… little brother – whose recovering quite well from the centaurs attack if you're at all curious. So I've been enlisted as his assistant."

"You'll be around Hogwarts this year?" Harry asked out of surprise.

"Don't be too disappointed."

"I'm not. I wouldn't have seemed proper if Hogwarts only contained two Weasleys!"

"It won't be full time. I took a flat in Hogsmeade, I'll be running lots of errands for the Order and acting as sort of ambassador with the eastern European order members."

Bill clapped his little brother on the back, "Ambassador, eh? I think you might have puffed that job up a bit."

Charlie punched his brother's arm, "Yeah, well at least I haven't declared my undying support of the French!"

All three laughed for a moment until Bill stop abruptly and turned to Harry wide eyed, "Harry, when's the last time Ron wrote you?"

"About a week ago, I think."

"Then mate you only know half the story," Bill said beaming, then becoming uncharacteristically shy, "Err…Fleur has agreed…what I mean to say is - "

"You asked Fleur to marry you?" Charlie offered.

"Well, yeah that about sums it up" he said slapping Charlie upside the head.

"That's great news. Wow, congratulations," Harry meant it too. Fleur was a quarter veela and absolutely, drop-dead gorgeous.

"Too bad you only came back today Harry, all us Weasleys had an impromptu celebration last night."

"All?" Harry asked pointedly.

Bill sighed and said, "Good point, Harry. No, Percy wasn't around nor has he been. But why dwell on the negatives when the newest member of the Weasley family was there?" He smiled, Harry imagined, at the thought of a Mrs. Fleur Weasley.

"Too true, brother, besides you don't seem to be the only one getting along well with the female persuasion," Charlie added and Bill laughed heartily. Harry, however, was less amused.

"Got to admit," Bill was now saying, "I didn't think the two of you would get together. I sort of thought Ron might fancy her."

Harry felt a stab of insufferable guilt; in truth, he sort of thought that too. Bill and Charlie exchanged meaningful glances before looking back to him. Harry was sure the guilt was written obviously across his face.

"Oh," said Charlie finally. For a moment Harry considered asking the two older boys for advice because he had no idea how to handle the situation. However Charlie turned to his brother and said, "I don't know about you bro, but I don't think I'm getting involved with this one." Bill only snickered.

Then a new thought occurred to Harry: was it possible that he could keep this from Ron? He was sure Hermione did not intend to tell him. Yet everyone at Grimmauld Place that night certainly knew, but maybe like Charlie they just would not get involved. His mind was running in circles.

"Ahh, Harry mate, one quick word of advice," Bill said, "If you hope to come through this whole thing in one piece, you best stop looking so guilty."

"Bill, Charlie," called Hermione from the doorway, "your father wants a word."

"Say no more, Hermione, off we go then," Charlie said slapping his brother on the back and dragging him off to the dinning room.

As the door closed Hermione turned to Harry who was still looking as if he had actually stabbed Ron in the back. "What happened?" she asked innocently.

"What happened?" Harry echoed in amazement, "That has to be the most inappropriate question of the night!"

"Oh, yes that," Hermione said looking at her feet, "Do you think it was a mistake?"

"I don't know, maybe."

"Well I don't," Hermione said, "Sit down we really need to talk." Harry complied and sat on the sofa, but to his surprise Hermione sat on the ground in front of him with her back to Harry. She gracefully spread out her gown.

"Help me get these flowers out of my hair, they're stuck," she said. Harry was completely confused but agreed. What he thought would be a simple matter of pulling the flowers out one by one was actually a more complicated untangling of each flower from Hermione's hair. For a few moments the process kept him totally occupied, but then Hermione began to talk again.

"Like I said, I don't think it was a mistake. It was a circumstantial occurrence enhanced by several glasses of Champaign." Harry had no idea what she was getting on about, but listened intently while untangling flowers all the same.

She continued, "I want you to know, when I decided to visit you this summer, I did not intend for this to happen, not at all. I mean, I was perfectly satisfied with going to that wedding on my own. I just wanted to see you and get you out of that awful house for a while. But by any means it happened; and it's done; and we can't take it back. We can't pretend it never happened either because everyone already knows."

"Ok then, what do you suggest we do?" Harry asked still entranced with his job of removing the flowers.

"I think neither of us wants it to happen again, am I right? It would just be too complicated, wouldn't it?"

For the first time since she started talking Hermione sounded unsure. Harry stopped for a moment and thought. _What did he want? _

When he thought about it, everything Hermione said made perfect sense. He would only be putting her in greater danger if they were to become closer. Voldemort went after Sirius; he would not be above going after his _muggle-born girlfriend who happened to be top of the class. _He also thought about what it would mean to his and Ron's relationship, which could be touch and go at times anyway.

_But look at her_, came that wicked voice from the back of his head. _It didn't seem so wrong an hour ago_. Harry resented the voice for its accuracy. An hour ago Hermione was the most irresistible person he had ever seen. _No not even an hour ago_, the voice said, _fifteen minutes ago when you were nice and sober_. It was true; he could not take his eyes off Hermione just a few minutes ago. Even now, the smell lilac captivated him.

"I don't know Hermione," Harry said returning to the flowers. "It's already complicated, isn't it?"

"Yeah I suppose it is, but, Harry, I think we should decide what we want to do before we see Ron again."

Harry was growing to resent this situation. Girls should not be this complicated. Last year his relationship with Cho was ruined because Voldemort killed her former boyfriend Cedric. Now, he couldn't even get his relationship with Hermione right and their friendship was always one of the staples that held his sanity together. And he had to choose what he thought they should do before Ron got to Grimmauld Place? This just was not fair.

"That doesn't give me much time to think."

"What do you mean?" she asked turning to face Harry.

"Oh, you were on the phone when Kingsley was explaining. When the people at Diagon Alley saw the Dark Mark hovering in the air they panicked and rioting broke out."

Hermione gasped and grabbed Harry's knees, "Oh that's terrible! What about Ron! And the other Weasleys? Are they alright?"

"Yeah, they're all fine. I mean I don't know the particulars, but Tonks is with them and Fred and George left the meeting to survey the damage. Kingsley said they would come here as soon as Tonks felt comfortable leaving Diagon Alley."

Hermione's face softened as she turned back around to allow Harry to continue removing flowers. "Thank Merlin everyone's all right," she sighed.

Harry started to think about Ron again and grew agitated. Why did nothing in his life ever work out easily? He was completely confused about his feelings for Hermione and had no one to get advice from – not Ron or even one of his brothers, not Hermione, not even Sirius.

Harry had been so absorbed in troubled thoughts he pulled a little too roughly on a flower and took some hair with it.

"Ouch!" Hermione yelped.

"I'm sorry, maybe I'm not the best person for this job."

"Maybe not," Hermione slowly said massaging her head. She turned toward Harry giving him an extremely attentive look. She was examining him so closely Harry found himself slightly unnerved. It was very apparent she took great care with the way she phrased what she said next. "You might have tugged a little too hard this time, but look," she indicated the pile of flowers on the floor, "those were all jobs well done."

She pulled both of Harry's hand into her own and propped up on her knees so that hers and Harry's faces were very close. Harry held his breath. "You may not be the best person for this job, Harry Potter, but I asked _you _all the same. Never forget that."

For some reason, these words sent shivers down Harry's spine. Hermione and he were still locked in a direct stare, but Harry could not take it anymore. He exhaled heavily and pushed her back slightly. He didn't understand, but he was shaken to his very core.

Hermione turned her back to him and in moments Harry was thoughtlessly disentangling flowers again. _And what was that about Mr. Potter_, said the voice in his head.

It seemed like hours passed in poignant silence as the pile of flowers grew. Their conversation had a false sense of conclusion; neither of them had made any decision, but they both had run out of things to say.

The silence was finally broken by the crack of Fred, no sorry George, apparating into the room. "Hey there you two! Tonks has been spending too much time with Mad-Eye. She wants me to get an all clear from Dumbledore before the others come through."

"He might still be in the dinning room," Harry said.

After the door closed behind George, Harry asked Hermione if she thought they should find out what if anything the twins had told Ron. Hermione had only shrugged.

"Well," George said entering the parlor again, "Dumbledore's gone, but I think Lupin's clearance might be good enough." Harry felt his heart rate accelerate. George noticed Harry's changed and commented, "Harry, cheer up. Fred and I decided not to meddle in whatever incestuous triangle you three are brewing. We think it'll be good fun watching the chips fall." Harry stood up dramatically and took a few menacing steps toward George, who only laughed. "Alright there, Harry, my bad. That was a below the belt. I got to go back to the shop now, Cheers!" George disapparated with a wink.

Harry turned to Hermione who was flushed red again. I _am never going to live this down_, he thought desperately, _I could vanquish Voldemort tomorrow and people would still be preoccupied teasing him about today_.

"Don't worry Hermione, it can only get better, right?" he tried to reassure her as much as himself.

"Oh, now you've gone and done. We'll be jinxed for sure."

"Since when have you been superstitious?"

Hermione was ready with a comeback, but was interrupted by a flash of green flames from the fireplace and the appearance of a battered Ron Weasley.

Battered yes, Harry thought, but looking in surprising good condition otherwise. If Harry looked the part of a seeker, Ron was looking more and more the part of a keeper. Ron had always been taller then Harry, but now he thought that Ron must have at least six inches on him. He had also grown broader, Harry imagined from practicing Quidditch all summer. Unlike Dudley however, Ron size suited him. He still looked good-natured.

"Harry!" Ron exclaimed when he caught site of his friend. He had not noticed Hermione on account of her cowering on the floor near the sofa. "Alright then, mate?"

"Yeah fine. But what happened to you?" he asked looking at a cut under Ron's right eye which seemed to be developing into a shiner.

"Well Diagon Alley went crazy. Ginny and I were lucky we had our brooms and flew over most of it. But some people tried looting the store. We beat 'em off pretty well. Tonks came along in time to help some." He finished pointing toward his eye, "Alas she was a bit wired, just in from Azkaban duties. Hexed me by accident. No worries though. Mum can mend it up proper, she just insisted it wait 'till we got here where there are decent facilities. She's really not impressed with her children's cleaning skills. Says Fred and George's flat is filthy and unfit for human inhabitation."

"But this place is?" Harry asked darkly.

Ron didn't answer; he had finally spotted Hermione. Harry had not noticed before, but she had gone quite pail and tensed up so that she might have passed for petrified.

"Hey Hermione," Ron said tentatively sighing, "Listen about last week and err…that letter, I'm sorry."

Hermione finally stood up and looked at Ron. For what seemed the hundredth time to Harry, she began to cry again. "It's alright, I over reacted," she finally said pausing a moment before wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him with all her might. "When I heard about Diagon Ally I was so scared. What if something happened and we hadn't made up?"

Ron put his arms around Hermione's waist and hugged her so forcibly she was lifted off the ground for a moment. "Well its over now isn't it?" he sighed releasing her.

Harry was experiencing a strange emotion. Guilt still surged through his veins, but a new anger was seeping into him now as well. No, it was more of a resentment Harry thought as he watched his best friends make-up. He used to be happy when Ron and Hermione had been able to call a truce to their bickering, but have they always acted like this when they made-up? Perhaps recent events had Harry noticing things he had never seen before.

The fire grew green again and Ginny appeared. "Hey Ron, you better have been attacked!" she said angrily crawling out of the fireplace.

"Why?" he asked his sister.

"Because you were supposed to stick your head in that fireplace and give the second go ahead, is why Ron! Mum was going crazy with nerves! She thought that you'd be dead by the time we got here; I had to plead with her to let me come here and knock you upside the head!"

"Oh yeah. Sorry, I got caught up talking to Harry and Hermione." Ginny simply glared. "Err…I'll just go tell Mum and Tonks that alls clear."

Ron bent down into the fire as Ginny hugged Harry and Hermione in turn. She complimented Hermione's dress and then left to find Bill, Charlie and her father to tell them all about the riots.

Mrs. Weasely and Tonks soon joined them in the parlor not all amused by Ron, who to his merit apologized sincerely again. Mrs. Weasley immediately took to fretting about Harry and Hermione's state. "Merlin's beard, it must be muggle food. I thought it was just those horrible Dursley's, but look at Hermione, Tonks! Even she looks like she hasn't eaten in a month!"

"Maybe she is a little peaky," Tonks said happily, "but that is a lovely dress."

Ron apparently only just noticed their attire and did a double take between Harry and Hermione before looking the latter up and down. "Wait a minute, why are you two dressed up?"

"We went to my cousin's wedding," Hermione asserted.

"Oh," Ron replied to Hermione coldly, "Have a good time then?"

"Not really," Hermione answered defensively.

"Huh, I'd have thought you'd enjoy a good day on the town with Harry. What went wrong then?"

Hermione looked furiously at Ron. _At least something was back to normal_, Harry thought.

"Let me think Ron. Let's see the, Dark Mark went off and we both had to take a portkey out of the reception. Oh and we wouldn't want to forget the part where my parents disowned me. That really capped the day off nicely."

"No!" Tonks and Mrs. Weasley gasped. Ron simply looked horrified.

"But why?" Mrs. Weasley protested, "you're such a good child!"

"Perhaps by your definition, but the Granger family has officially decided that they would rather have no daughter then…" Hermione's words seem to be caught in her throat, but she pressed on, "…they would prefer no daughter to a Mudblood, and believe me there was no paraphrasing."

The room went quiet. Harry had certainly missed that part of the story earlier. Ron, his mother and Tonks were all staring at Hermione in disbelief. "They mustn't understand it properly," Tonks was saying in dark awe, "That's all. They just must not understand that word, Hermione."

Hermione gave Tonks a grim smile. "Yes they do," she said simply.

"Well, I never!" Mrs. Weasley said pulling Hermione into a tight hug and kissing her forehead. "Don't you worry. They'll regret that and come around, but until then I'll be sure you're taken care of."

"Yeah, don't worry, Hermione," Ron said reassuringly, "You can come with us to the shop tomorrow. It's a lot of fun. You too, Harry, you should both come. It'll take your minds off of everything."

"Well, we'll have to see won't we Ron. We'll need Dumbledore's permission."

"Thanks," Hermione said, "but we can't go tomorrow. Maybe later though."

"Why not?" Ron and Harry asked in unison.

"Sorry Harry, I guess I forgot to tell you. Lupin made arrangements to take us to collect our school things. He called on my cell phone. He talked to the Dursley's and my parents."

"Well there. See, things are looking up already! Now let's go take care of that cut before dinner, Ron," Mrs. Weasley said pulling Ron away.

"Yeah sorry about that Ron," Tonks said following them out of the room, "I'll give you a hand with that Molly." Both Mrs. Weasley and Ron were heard declining the offer before the door closed.

Harry turned to Hermione unsure of what to say, but finally deciding on, "Sorry about your parents."

"Don't be. I should have told them earlier."

Harry paused for a moment before slyly asking, "You don't really think everything today was that awful, do you?"

"Oh no," Hermione said grinning broadly, "the Champaign was excellent."


End file.
